


eucrasia

by orphan_account



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Coming Out, Fusion of Book and Movie, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not actually a sickfic, Richie has good parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12902580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Richie Tozier is sick.He doesn’t exactly remember when he got sick in the first place, but at this point he’s pretty sure it’s terminal.





	eucrasia

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I know it's very popular to make Richie neglected, but sometimes that boy needs a hug from his parents.

Richie Tozier is sick.

He doesn’t exactly remember when he got sick in the first place, but at this point he’s pretty sure it’s terminal.

He’s not sure when his teasing calls of ‘cute’ towards Eddie turned into truths that would not allow themselves to be contained. He’s not sure when his heart started to ache at Eddie’s protests at the nicknames he gives him, or when it started to flutter at the smallest brush of Eddie’s skin against his. What he does remember is his heart skipping a beat when one afternoon at the Barrens a cloud moved, or something, and the light glinted off of Eddie’s head making him seem like an angel bathed in holy light. He remembers time stopping and his brain coming up with nothing more than a silent “Oh” in acknowledgment that he was in way too fucking deep without even noticing himself getting there.

He remembers getting home and laying in bed and feeling sick and shaky and terrified and _knowing_ that he can never tell Eddie. Not pure, good, and sometimes still occasionally fearful Eddie. Richie didn’t deserve him and Eddie would never want him anyway, no, Eddie would be better off not ever knowing about the sickness Richie knew he must have. The sickness that seeped into his bones and blood and brain, making every movement, every thought about Eddie, about the things he wanted _to do_ to Eddie.

Richie decided then, alone and trembling in bed, that he would never tell anyone. Instead he’d grow up and move away, and Eddie would grow up and move away and marry some girl and neither of them would ever see each other again. Richie would be fine with that, eventually he’d make himself fine with that.

That was two weeks ago.

…

“Just us today?” Bev asked when she arrived, large purse hanging over her shoulder filled with the records Richie had asked her to bring. “Everyone else too good to hang out with us or what?”

Richie let out a huff of laughter at that.

“You already know Ben’s sick, Bill and Mike are working, and Stan’s helping his dad with something.” Richie made a vague gesture with his hand.

“What about Eddie?” Bev asked, genuinely curious since him and Richie had seemed attached at the hip lately.

“Oh, um I didn’t want to bother him.”

Beverly had a million things to say to that, but hearing the way Richie’s voice drooped she thought better of saying any of them yet. She could feel, in that weird kind of magical way they all sometimes felt around each other, that this wasn’t the right time to talk.

“Well, their loss.” She said emphatically. “What did you want with these records anyway?”

“Well, M’lady I jus’ got this ol’ bugger up an’ running, thought you might want to take ‘er for a _spin_?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her for the last part, driving home his ridiculous character while showing off a very old record player set up in the corner of his room.

Bev just rolled her eyes good-naturedly, but went ahead and put one on anyway. She really did like Richie, thought he was funny and everything, especially one-on-one when he didn’t feel the need to make himself louder than everyone else in the room. They could just spend the day shooting the shit, maybe smoking a couple of cigarettes, although they had been doing it less and less lately. Ben complained about the smell and Richie didn’t have any way of procuring his own without Bev anyway. So mostly they just sat in his room and talked, Bev noticed Richie getting weirdly quiet about Eddie though, and waited for the right time to bring it up. During the middle of her The Cure album Richie got another far away look in his eye and everything seemed to come together for Bev.

“You know sometimes it really scares me.” She decided to speak up.

“What does?” Richie asks, a little surprised that Bev was scared of _anything_ , and even more surprised that she would share it with him.”

“Being with Ben. I feel like…like he’s just too damn good for me, you know? Like he obviously has this bright future ahead of him, and even if he didn’t he’s so nice and just… _good_.” She spoke carefully. “But I know I love him, and he loves me. Sometimes that’s all we can really ask of another person.”

Richie groaned out loud.

“I hate you so much for making this into a heart to heart.” He turned towards her though, looking up through bug-eye frames into her eyes. “But Bev, you are good enough for Ben, he wouldn’t- we wouldn’t love you if we didn’t think you were good, and nice, and…everything.”

Bev smiled.

“I love you, Richie.”

“I love you too, Bev.” Richie sighed. “And…I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” She asks, not wanting to give him anymore or scare him away just yet. Not until he’s said it.

“I’m in love with Eddie?” His voice raised up at the end, as if phrasing it as a question would save him from any possible ridicule or critique.

“I know.” She said softly, the kind of voice she uses when she wants people to know she’s being genuine. “That’s kinda what my whole speech was about.”

The wry smile on her face makes Richie try on a shaky one of his own.

“You’re a fox in sheep’s clothing you know that, Marsh?”

“It’s wolf, dumbass.” She laughs though, and the familiarity to the joking makes Richie feel at ease again.

“Not with your hair, bitch.”

After a bit of playful fighting the two fell back into their positions on Richie’s bed, Bev’s feet up against the wall above the headboard and Richie’s head in her lap. They stayed like that for a while, Richie only getting up once to turn over the record on his old player, until Richie’s mom knocked on the door.

“Richie? I went to the store to-” Her train of thought must have halted as she took in their positions on the bed. “Oh, hi Beverly, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Hi Mrs.Tozier, I was just about to head home actually.” She artfully twisted herself from under Richie, making him groan at the inconvenience.

“Are you sure, I was just about to start dinner if you wanted to stay.” Maggie said the words, but the expression on her face made it seem like she didn’t mean them.

Bev picked up her purse from where she had left it on the ground, missing her grimace.

“No, that’s okay. Thank you though.” She smiled, beautiful and kind like she always did around adults she actually liked, and brushed passed her on the way out the door.

“Bye!” Richie made a point of exclaiming at her as she bounded away from him. _Some friend she is_.

“Richie.” Maggie Tozier said warningly.

“What did I do this time?” Richie whines, finally looking up to see his mom.

She stood with her hands on her hips, scolding and firm.

“What did you do? Richie, you just had a girl in your room with the door closed, you know you can’t do that, especially when your father and I aren’t home.”

Richie splutters in response.

“A-a girl? Mom, that was _Bev_ , everyone knows her and Ben are like married.”

“I don’t care if they actually are married, you can’t have her in your room, on your bed no less!”

“Mom! I can promise you, nothing will ever happen with Bev. It’s a stupid rule.”

“I’m sorry Richie, but the rule is the same for _any_ girl.”

“No! Ugh, I mean-” Richie took a deep breath, it was now or never. “You don’t have to worry about Bev, o-or any girl, because…I already- I like boys- a… boy.”

Maggie Tozier was quiet for what could have only ben a few seconds, but it felt like years to Richie. Finally, she spoke, softly, kindly.

“Oh, honey… is it Stanley?” She moved towards him to kneel at his bedside.

“W-what!? No, mom! That’s disgusting! I can’t believe-why would you even ask that?” All terror left Richie’s mind and in place there was shock and confusion, not just of he assumption but how well she was reacting.

“Sorry, sorry. You two are so close I just assumed…Sorry, Richie.” She moved her small hand over his forehead to brush his hair back, the same way she always had when he was younger and curly locks spilled into his eyes no matter what he did. If the familiarity of the motion wasn’t enough to make Richie want to cry what she said next was. “Thank you for telling me, you’re so brave and wonderful and I love you so much”

Richie collapsed in on himself, tears running freely down his cheeks as he struggled to keep up with his own breath. He could feel his mom’s arms wrapping around him, keeping him as together as possible in the moment until he was able to calm down. Her soft lips pressed against his head, warm and comforting, and he could feel her heavy curls fall around himself, a dark curtain protecting them both from everything outside, at least for a little while.

 “Mags? Richie? Are you home?”

The sound of Richie’s father’s voice shocked them out of position, and Maggie instantly gave Richie a searching look, silently asking him what he wanted.

Richie looked into her reddened eyes and silently nodded.

“We’re in here, Went.”

“Hey I- What’s wrong?” The casual humor in Richie’s dad’s voice dropped away as soon as he got a look at the two of them and the sound was enough to make Richie tear up again.

“I’m s-sorry, dad.” Richie could hear his own voice break, and the sound of his mother shushing him gently.

“What’s wrong son?” He addressed the question to Richie, but looked up to meet his wife’s eyes instead, worry filling his face.

“It’s okay, Richie, you can tell him.” His mom murmured into his hair. “We love you.”

“Dad, I’m sorry dad, I’m gay.” It was the first time Richie had said the word out loud, and he didn’t like the feeling that came with it even if he knew it was true. He could feel the fear choking him, saying it out loud made it real and Richie didn’t like it when things got real.

“Richie…” His father breathed, the same soft and kind tone his mother used earlier. “You don’t have to be sorry, Rich. Come on, why would you think that? We love you.”

The question must have been rhetorical because he didn’t give Richie any opening to answer, instead he enveloped both him and his mother in a hug. Richie could smell the synthetic cleanness of the dentist’s office on his father, the familiar scent made him realize he hadn’t even taken off his coat before coming to see what was wrong. Richie took in a shaky breath, waiting for more tears to come but none did. Instead he spoke up quietly.

“Thank you.”

…

The next day, Richie’s mom woke him up and told him he didn’t have to go to school, his dad had taken the day off too so they all stayed at home, together. His mom made waffles and they stayed in their pajamas all day. Even though he knew they didn’t think that way of him, it reminded Richie of when he was younger and they would stay with him at home if he got sick. They watched old comedies and westerns and his dad quoted lines with him in a butchered accent while his mom laughed. Richie fell asleep on the couch between the two of them and he didn’t feel at all like his mother thought he was odd, or his father would rather be at work. Maybe they all needed this, to remember what they had.

Later that night Richie was feeling so good about the entire situation he decided to call Eddie for the first time in weeks.

He answered on the second ring.

“Richie? Are you okay? You weren’t at school.”

_Aww, did you miss me?_ Is what Richie didn’t say.

“Yeah I’m fine, hey are you busy right now?”

“Um, no I guess not why?”

“I’m coming over.”

“Wait, um, just come around back, okay? Don’t use the front door.”

“Aww, why? Worried your mom might see me first and keep me all to herself, Eds?”

“Don’t- ugh, no. She’s just on a tear today,” His voice drops suddenly, like he’s telling a secret.  “Going on about how she thinks you’re gay and trying to infect me.” He lets out a humorless laugh at the idea. “Obviously I know it’s nothing like that, but it would just be better if she doesn’t see you, okay?”

Silence. Richie doesn’t know how to respond to a personal critique so spot on and devastating, doesn’t even know how to turn it into a joke.

“Richie, you still there?” Eddie speaks up after a moment.

“Yeah, Eddie. Um, listen I just remembered I have something else I have to do, I’ll see you at school, okay?”

“O-”

Richie doesn’t let him finish, can’t let him finish. The hot, seizing, feeling of tears is returning and he can’t get the phone away fast enough before he starts crying.

He’s not sure why he was stupid enough to think things were going to be okay.


End file.
